


My First B99 Fic Please Go Easy

by taylor_tut



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Gen, Sick Character, Sickfic, sick jake peralta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: for the anon prompt from tumblr:  id love one then! bonus points if its during a case >;3c and it doesnt have to be romantic :3 gimme dat platonic lovin!





	My First B99 Fic Please Go Easy

Jake wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t prone to headaches–especially now that Amy was making him drink  _water_ –but he had one now, and it was bad. Really bad. Like, affecting his ability to look at the sun bad. 

“Jake,” Rosa warned, “you’re driving like crap.” Upon further inspection he was, in fact, driving like crap. His tires were halfway over the double yellow line. He swerved back, but that motion wasn’t smooth either, and Rosa took her feet off the dash and sighed. “That’s it, pull over. I’m driving.”

“I can drive,” Jake argued.

“Not right now you can’t,” Rosa said. “What’s going on with you?”

“Just a headache,” Jake admitted. “Nothing major.”

“Well, I’m taking over driving.”

“Rosa, no,–”

“Either I take over driving, or we turn on the flashers and sirens to make sure you don’t hit anybody; your choice.”

Jake let out an irritated huff, but pulled over anyway. 

“Party pooper,” Jake muttered. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Parade rainer.”

“Cliche namecaller.”

“Touche.”

The fact that they spent the rest of the drive in silence was what kind of worried Rosa. She expected to hear Jake complain more about wanting to drive, or chattering about what bar they should all go out to when they finally booked this guy, or whether shaving a golden retriever would make it so that Amy wouldn’t be allergic and they could get a dog.

But none of that happened. They met Captain Holt and Sergeant Terry outside an old, cheap hotel, and Rosa was already determined to keep a close eye on Jake. 

Turns out, it didn’t take a close eye to spot that something was wrong.

Three steps into the building, Jake tripped over a piece of scrap metal, and while that alone wasn’t uncommon, he didn’t spring back up. Instead, he pressed a palm firmly to his eye and groaned. 

“Peralta?” Sergeant tried, “Come on, get up. We don’t have time for games.”

Jake nodded without a word, standing shakily and following their superiors.

“Jake, seriously, what’s wrong?” Rosa pressed. “If something’s up, you need to tell us.”

“It’s nothing,” Jake insisted. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worried about you,” Rosa said, and Jake flinched. “I mean, I’m not just worried about you. If you’re hiding something from us, it could jeopardize the mission.” 

Jake considered that for a moment, but shook his head. “It won’t.”

In Jake’s defense, it didn’t.

The group split up, one person investigating each floor of the building. Jake’s floor was empty, but his vision was tunneling by the time he got to the end of the hall, and he stumbled forward, tripping over a chair in what looked like an old conference room, and collapsed there on the floor. 

Rosa was able to find and arrest their bad guy without incident.

But Jake didn’t report when they called for him over the radio.

“Peralta,” Sergeant barked, “come on; you’re delaying bar celebration time. Let’s get a move on.”

There wasn’t so much as a peep from Jake.

Rosa cursed. “We’ve got to go look for him,” she said. “Something must’ve happened. He wasn’t feeling so hot before we got here.”

Captain Holt immediately took off toward the floor that Jake had been investigating. 

“Peralta,” he called, over and over down the hallway, peeking in each room until he finally found him on the ground, half tangled in an old office chair.

“Jake,” Ray called, “Come on, son; wake up.” He tapped Jake’s cheek, rousing him gently, as he leaned into his radio and called for Terry to come help, since Jake might need help walking. 

“Cap’n?” Jake slurred. “Wha’happened?”

“I could ask you the same question, son,” he replied. “Why would you come on a mission so clearly ill?” To drive home his point, he pressed a hand to Jake’s forehead, wincing at the heat. 

“Thought it was just a migraine,” Jake explained weakly. 

“You shouldn’t come on a mission with a migraine, either,” he chastised. 

“Sorry, dad,” Jake tried for a smile. 

“It’s all right, son. Sergeant,” Ray greeted as Terry entered the room, “he’ll need a bit of help walking.”

“I can walk,” Jake argued, but apparently both of their ideas were sub-par in Terry’s eyes, because he picked Jake up bridal style and carried him out of the building. 

“Should we take him to a hospital, or to a CVS pharmacy?” Terry asked. 

“Neither,” Jake insisted. “I’ll just go home and sleep it off.”

“Honestly, I believe you,” Captain Holt said, “but if we return you home in damaged condition, I’m afraid of what Amy will do to us.”

Jake paled. “Okay. CVS.”

Amy was still not happy that they’d broken her boyfriend, but she let everyone live.


End file.
